TO’s mum
has had another fall so yet another flying visit to Albury Base
Hospital this weekend. 2
weeks til her 92nd birthday. Luckily [or more realistically, sadly]
she is still in hospital but only because of family contacts. One expects that
as the costs of caring for the elderly escalate and baby boomers become an even
bigger burden, ‘community’ attitudes to voluntary euthanasia will soften
markedly.
J is intermittently
confused these days, but happily confused – a blessing in itself.
Today we
sat in the Hospital’s café courtyard sharing ice-creams. Still able to read 6
point type without glasses, replied to TO’s question about what she was staring
at “I’m reading what’s in this ice-cream.”
After a
short discussion of birds’ nests and various flowers in the garden, she dryly
commented that someone in the processing plant had sat on her ice-cream – “it
says here ‘sat fats’ “.
--------------------------
Inconceivable,
I know, but Fruitcake has been whingier and whinier than usual – my un-posting
born of a desire to spare you.
Must
catch up on lots of blog reading. but probably will not leave comments as the ‘moments’
have been well and truly lost.
--------------------------
Voltaire observed
re-incarnation is possibly a realistic notion, as nothing in nature is ever
wasted. These last few weeks I’ve found myself hoping like buggery he was
wrong, and there is no such thing as re-incarnation at all. One lifetime of
this exasperating crap is enough.
A brief
summary of what I would like to say to a few people should give you an idea of what
you should be glad to have missed:
To A – a
dignified exit, but best riddance.
To B – Now
that I have read La Gina’s unauthorised biography and realise all your crap
about developing Northern Australia is built on such monstrous notions, I’m
scared shitless. Vote for you?
Despite
the gross mismanagement of our two-speed economy [and more] I’m hoping like
buggery you and your Stepford wife will somehow spontaneously combust. Ashes to
ashes, bulldust to bulldust.
To C – F.U.
“Now is not a convenient time.” Not convenient?!?! Over the last 9 months you
have graduated in my estimation from smart to “useless dick” to “dick-prick”,
you sanctimonious, self absorbed bastard. Hopefully in a few months I’ll be
free to channel my mother and have nothing more to do with you at all.
To D –
Yeah, I’m a grumpy shit. The brevity of my visit is the first honest thing I’ve
not said to you in decades. Oh, and BTW… FU2.
To E – My
sincere wishes for a long and happy life in mother’s old house. I cannot
believe you put up with all that un-necessary crap for 14 months – I certainly
wouldn’t have. God bless.
To F –
Your self-discipline, self-sacrifice and determination are inspiring. Oh, and I
love your intelligent sense of humour.
To G – I will
never, ever forget that day about 55 years ago when you read me the story of
Rumplestiltskin. Perhaps more importantly, the day you found a rancid piece of
chewed meat in my tunic pocket and made no fuss about it at all.
To H –
you pompous git. Of course I have the authority to tell you senior management
won’t want to talk to you. "Receptionist" is just Orwell-speak for “gatekeeper”.
Do you think they can listen all day to such stuff? Get over yourself.
To I – No
wonder your employer is going broke. You are a rude, rude, rude, brainless bitch; I’m
sick of your phlegmmy coughing in my ear, I’m sick of your insulting, demanding
attitude, and I’m sick of having to field calls from customers desperate
to deal direct with the manufacturer.
To J –
Your endless patience is unusual and you have my undying gratitude.
To Harvey – now that the arse
has fallen out of our dollar, can’t wait to hear your next explanation of why
Australian consumers are to blame for your lack of business savvy.
To the
Aussies in the motel breakfast room on Saturday morning: – You are disgusting,
selfish pigs and I have never been so embarrassed in my life.
To the
Japanese guests: you have simply reinforced my previous impressions that you
are a thoughtful, clean, considerate race with genuinely warming smiles that
melt language barriers more efficiently than a microwave oven.
TO – Olive
Juice.
I worry for your blood pressure. Hopefully this post was cathartic and you can rid your thoughts of these people.
ReplyDeleteI wish you three good things for your day, it seems like you could use some.
Big Dog, it was indeed cathartic. The catharsis plus a visit from you were two good things to kick start the day, thanks for your kind thoughts.
DeleteYou've reminded me of a few lines in "Sane New World", by Ruby Wax, where she bangs on [as she does] about stress and our maladapted brains...We're in a constant downpour of adrenaline and cortisol, muscle tension, high blood pressure and lack of oxygen to the brain - [stress is mine if you'll pardon the pun.]
Anger and eloquence all in one post. :)
ReplyDeleteKind of you to slip in the word "eloquence", Andrew.
Deleteoh I loved it. Clear the air, then onward and upward.
ReplyDeleteLately I have been thinking about the difference in coping with a loved parent, and having to cope with a vile parent.
My nonagenarian is now in a care home where they all think he is "just lovely", when in actual fact they have no. fn. idea. of his charmless side that I know.
He has never taken the slightest notice of Voltaire, but reincarnation? slug.
X X
Ann, I can't identify with the first, but the latter; the vile parent is all too familiar. Yes, people at the nursing home gushed on about how they got along with mother and wished they could have attended the funeral. I would have swapped places with them in a heartbeat. The ridiculous thing is she was constantly sharing her charmless side with them. On another level, though, I do remember feeling my own thoughts were slightly vindicated by the shocked look on SIL's face when she finally heard how the vile one had always spoken to me - usually reserved for private moments.
DeleteClear the air? Then usually go through a whole mess of self-doubt or loathing. Why? Some people are just not worth it... but I want so desperately to be a nice person who couldn't give a toss in the first place. Talk about a set up.
Slug? I like it.
The slug, aka Mr Magoo, refuses to comprehend the machinations of shifting term deposits to become a bond for the care home, and absolutely refuses to give power of attorney to his only child, so at wits'end, AOD fell into the arms of State Trustees just so she could stop thinking about him.
ReplyDeleteYou had a funeral? AOD is planning to claim "too griefstricken, private interment", and is so very glad her whereabouts are unknown to any of his friends. XX
Slug sounds about right. Perhaps his "friends" won't be an issue once the well has dried up?
DeleteI agree with Andrew.
ReplyDeleteGood post. Good comment.
Hi Dina, and TY :)
DeleteWow! That's some cartharsis!! I actually feel a little bit guilty for a) enjoying it and b) surreptitiously writing down a few of your best bits to use in later 'conversation'. Seriously, I hope in getting it out, you can now forget about it. After you've read my comment of course! Welcome back - I have missed you!
ReplyDeleteRed, it was cathartic. Perhaps it was good because I'm getting old enough to give myself permission to think what I actually think I'd like to think?
Delete[First correct answer to that puzzle wins a prize!]
It's nice that you missed me. I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course:)
That puzzle is a no brainer ...
DeleteAnd I'll take your 'nice' as non-insulting. I'm sure you'll let me know if I am making an incorrect assumption!
Ah, I see we understand each other :)
Delete